


Slipping

by Saetha



Series: O Swallow, have mercy on them [Febuwhump 2021 Prompt Fills] [8]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Concussions, Cuddling & Snuggling, FebuWhump2021, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Whump, Worried Ezio, brief mentions of vomiting, falling, no beta we die like YUSUF SHOULDN’T HAVE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29288211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saetha/pseuds/Saetha
Summary: "Don’t worry, I will tell all our brothers and sisters that you fell because you were heroically trying to shield me from the arrows of our pursuers which unfortunately knocked you off course.”“Ever the flatterer,” Yusuf’s lips pull themselves into another smile. “I wonder if they will believe it.”“They’ll believe anything. To them, you are infallible.”“Ha. In-fall-ible. You did that on purpose, didn’t you.”*Yusuf takes a tumble off a roof. Ezio looks after him and makes sure that he is going to survive the night.
Relationships: Ezio Auditore da Firenze/Yusuf Tazim
Series: O Swallow, have mercy on them [Febuwhump 2021 Prompt Fills] [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138178
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19
Collections: febuwhump 2021





	Slipping

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another blast from the past! There is no day when I'm not emotional over Ezio and Yusuf in some corner of my brain still. I love them so much. Today's prompt was: “Hey, hey, this is no time to sleep”.

_All it takes is one slip_. Ezio remembers thinking these exact words a hundred times before, hears them repeated in his head by his uncle’s voice and all the Assassins that came after him. _All it takes is one slip, one fall, and you are done for_. He always thought it would be him that would fall one day, see the world rush by in an explosion of colour before he hits the ground and never wakes up again, especially now that age has started to settle inside his bones.

He never thought he would watch someone else slip.

“Yusuf!” The shout rips its way from his mouth the same moment that Yusuf tumbles through the air, his fall luckily arrested by a large pile of dead leaves below, but Ezio thinks he can hear the crack with which his head hits the edge of the roof on the way down all the way to where he is standing.

Ezio clambers down from the roof as fast as he can, almost slipping and falling himself in his haste. To his endless relief Yusuf groans slightly when he digs him out from under the leaves. _Not dead_ , Ezio reminds himself over the hammering of his heart. _Not dead. Not dead_. He doesn’t know what he would have done otherwise. He feels his friend-so-recently-turned-lover over for any other injuries, but to his relief finds only what looks like bruises, the blood running down Yusuf’s scalp by far their biggest problem. By now, a crowd has begun to assemble around them and Ezio’s insides contract at the throng of people. Their adversaries could be hiding so easily amongst so many of them.

To his utter relief, a figure that he recognises as Ada, a young novice taken into the Brotherhood not two months ago, steps out from between the people, terror in her eyes. Together, they manage to drag Yusuf back to the nearest Hideout. He is conscious, but not lucid, mumbling words too quiet to understand when Ezio slings his arm over his shoulders.

Ada runs to fetch the closest healer and it is left to Ezio to try and make Yusuf as comfortable as he can. He carefully unties the scarf Yusuf usually wears around his head, winces when the dried blood in it rips at Yusuf’s hair.

“Sorry,” he whispers when Yusuf gives a protesting groan. His hand remains on Yusuf’s cheek for a moment, rubbing away a spot of dirt that has somehow found its way there.

“Ngh.” Yusuf groans again. “Hurts.”

“I know. The healer should be here any second.” Ezio begins to loosen first Yusuf’s shoulder armour, then his vambraces. It says a lot about the man’s state that he doesn’t protest, not even when Ezio rids him of both hookblade and hidden blade. “Just stay awake until then, you hear me?”

Yusuf grunts something that Ezio chooses to take as an affirmative. He has finally finished removing all his armour and outer clothing, and there isn’t much more left that he can do to make him comfortable, except try and soothe him whenever he tries to move.

Thankfully, the healer joins them soon enough, brows creasing in worry as soon as he sees the wound on Yusuf’s head. Ezio knows that he is a more than competent doctor (especially since the time he had to set the bones in one of his fingers, broken during a rather unfortunate scuffle with some guards) and still he has to force himself to step back and let the man do his work. Leonardo had once told him with a laugh that he could be overbearing in his worry and Ezio guesses that his old friend was definitely right, like he had been in so many things.

“He seems fine except for the wound on his head,” the doctor confirms what Ezio already knows. “It is difficult to say how much bleeding there might have been on the inside, but…” He rattles of a list of instructions that sound vaguely familiar to Ezio. Despite it, he is grateful when the doctor presses a piece of paper into his hands where he was written down everything he has just said; Ezio doubts he could remember it all in his fraught state of mind.

“Should I send for someone?” Ada asks, eyes wide with worry as she looks at her mentor. Ezio desperately wants to tell her that everything will be fine, but he can’t bring himself to say the words. They might be a lie, after all. He pulls himself together enough to give her instructions about what is to happen, who should be stationed where, and which critical missions that Yusuf had been planning should be carried out regardless. There is still a Brotherhood to run, after all, regardless of what state their mentor is in, and regardless of any feelings Ezio might be harbouring towards the man.

Yusuf is slowly becoming more lucid again, and when Ezio turns back around, he is staring into his friend’s open eyes. They are still slightly unfocused and cloudy with pain, but open nonetheless.

“Hey there,” he says gently. “For a moment I was convinced we’d lost you.”

“What-“ Yusuf reaches up to touch his head where the bandage is wound tightly around it, to keep the fresh stitches neat and in place. Ezio stops his hand halfway, gently guiding it back to the blankets in front of him.

“You fell. Do you remember? Cracked your head on the roof, although didn’t hurt anything else, thanks to a pile of leaves.”

“Fell?” Yusuf tilts his head and frowns, groans when even so slight a motion evidently sets his mind and sight spinning. Ezio brings up the bucket next to the bed just in time. He has, thankfully, had enough experiences with concussions to know what can be expected. Once Yusuf has divested his stomach of the contents of his previous meal, Ezio helps him wipe his mouth and face with a cool, clean cloth, before leaving to dispose of the mess. When he comes back, Yusuf’s eyes are closed again, but he is evidently still awake, head turning slightly towards Ezio’s approach.

“You fell, yes,” Ezio picks up the thread of conversation again. “Slipped on a loose tile, is my guess. Doctor says you should be alright, as long as there isn’t too much internal bleeding, although you’ll be dizzy for a while. Told me to keep you awake until evening and then wake you up every two hours to make sure you weren’t getting any worse.”

“Sounds like a lot of work,” Yusuf mumbles in response. “Sure you’re up for it, old man?”

Ezio gives him the gentlest punch in the ribs possible.

“Who is the one that fell?” he teases in return. “My old bones are still carrying me across the rooftops, unlike yours it seems.”

“Ha.” Yusuf laughs, which immediately turns into a cough as another bout of nausea overcomes him. “This one I won’t live down so easily, will I.”

“No,” Ezio confirms. His fingers are still resting on Yusuf’s, the contact between them grounding him and his worries for the man. “But don’t worry, I will tell all our brothers and sisters that you fell because you were heroically trying to shield me from the arrows of our pursuers which unfortunately knocked you off course.”

“Ever the flatterer,” Yusuf’s lips pull themselves into another smile, although he purposely doesn’t try to laugh this time. “I wonder if they will believe it.”

“They’ll believe anything. To them, you are infallible.”

“Ha. In-fall-ible. You did that on purpose, didn’t you.” Yusuf chuckles deep inside his throat. Ezio barks out a laugh – he hadn’t, not this time – that momentarily manages to chase his fears away.

“There it is. Finally made you laugh.” Yusuf lets out a heavy breath through his nose. “I’m not made of glass, you know. You can stop worrying. I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll believe it when you’re still alive come the morrow.” Age, Ezio supposes, has made him blunter, something that he knows Yusuf has always appreciated.

“The great Ezio Auditore da Firenze, worried sick over one single Assassin.” Yusuf starts shaking his head, but stops the motion as soon as it starts, remembering what a bad idea it is. “Surely, you have better things to do than spend the night at my bedside?”

“Not really, no. Constantinople will not fall from one night’s inattention. You trained your Assassins well. They’ll manage. And besides…” Ezio leans forward just a little, trails a thumb across Yusuf’s cheek and chin. “I recall a certain mentor doing the same for me, after I was wounded.”

“That he did.” Yusuf sighs. “Although, I would like to point out, that your chances were far worse than mine. You were as good as dead…”

“…only kept from my journey to the next life by your love and capable hands, I know,” Ezio completes the sentence for him, laughter dancing in his voice. They’ve had this conversation before and if he hadn’t stopped Yusuf, he would have turned the whole affair into a ballad. It’s not that Yusuf is bad at playing the lute or at singing – the opposite in fact – but Ezio has no desire to see his failures immortalised like this. Even if Yusuf has somehow managed to make their relationship sound like the stuff of true legend, or a fairy tale.

“Good. You should always remember,” Yusuf hums happily, although he sounds far too sleepy for Ezio’s liking, head sinking down to his shoulder.

“Hey, hey, this is no time to sleep.” Ezio reaches out, presses a palm to Yusuf’s cheek, trying to move him as little as possible but still keep him awake.

“’m not sleeping,” Yusuf mumbles. “Just resting my eyes.”

“Nonsense.” Ezio tries to quell the worry rising inside him. He is old, and as mentor of his own part of the Brotherhood he has seen death plenty of times ever since his father and brother dangled from the gallows. He should be used to it, although, as his uncle would have said, getting used to death is never a good thing. Nonetheless, the panic that is fluttering inside his chest at the thought of Yusuf dying is something he hasn’t felt in a long time, not since he and Leonardo had decided that it would be easier for them both to go their separate ways for a while. “Stay awake, please. The doctor and your novices would never forgive me if I just let you slip away like that.”

“Admit it, you are just angry because you are faced with something you can’t control.” Yusuf’s voice is still quiet and sleepy, but at least not more so than before. Ezio reaches out and takes the wet compress from his forehead, cools it again in some fresh water, before placing it back on Yusuf’s face. Yusuf gives an appreciative hum at the gesture.

“The opposite, in fact. I have seen too many people die because of things I couldn’t control,” Ezio corrects him. “This…keeping you awake, making sure you will live to see the next morning…is something that I _can_ control. And so I would like to do so.”

“Hm. Understandable.” Yusuf shifts a little, grimacing when even this small a movement apparently sets of his pain and dizziness again. “Tell me a story then. Interesting enough to keep me from sleeping.”

“Quite the challenge.” Ezio lets his fingers drift down the bare skin of Yusuf’s arm, keeping his touch light and soothing. “I am sure I can find something of interest, though. Perhaps the time I fell afoul of the Followers of Romulus…”

Of course, he embellishes the tale as well as he can, listening to Yusuf’s quiet chuckles to make sure he hasn’t fallen asleep. When the sun sets, he is relieved to see that Yusuf is doing no worse than before, a little better even perhaps. The medicines that the doctor has left seem to be working, and from time to time Yusuf opens his eyes, smiling every time his gaze alights on Ezio’s face. He does his best to do as the doctor has asked, waking him up every few hours throughout the night to ensure that he is still doing well. Yusuf mumbles in protest, but Ezio is relentless in following the doctor’s orders. He tries to soothe the sting a little with small kisses pressed to Yusuf’s forehead, making his chest vibrate with soft chuckles.

“I should be ill more often,” Yusuf murmurs at some point. “If it gets me this kind of treatment.”

“You better not get used to it,” Ezio admonishes him gently.

“Hm.” Yusuf just smiles, before dropping off into sleep again.

He is looking even healthier in the morning – still pale, but able to open his eyes again and move his head slightly without immediately throwing up. Ezio breathes a sigh of relief.

“Welcome back,” he says, brushing a few errant hairs away from Yusuf’s face.

“I was never actually gone,” Yusuf remarks leaning into his touch just a little.

“But still close to slipping away.” Ezio smiles. They’ve always been the softest in these early hours of the morning, when it feels like the world consists just of them and nobody else.

“You worry too much, old man.” Yusuf winks. “But perhaps, in order to make sure that I will remain, you should come into be with me?”

“Devious.” Ezio laughs. “And I won’t do anything to aggravate your concussion, do not even think about it.”

“I never said anything about _doing_ things.” Yusuf yawns. “Come here. It is early and you look like you need sleep.”

That, Ezio cannot deny. With a little sigh he strips off the outer layers of his clothing until he is just in shirt and breeches. He slips underneath the covers with a little groan after not having moved much all night, and Yusuf laughs quietly. He grabs hold of one of Ezio’s hands, pulls at it until Ezio is wrapped around him.

“There. Now go to sleep,” he says, voice already heavy with sleep again.

“Mhm.” Ezio closes his eyes and lets out a deep breath, buries his nose in the crook of Yusuf’s neck. He feels warm and safe now, the early shadow just another nightmare at the edges of his mind. He wishes it could stay this way forever, but for now, he will enjoy those moments as long as he can.

It doesn’t take long for the sound of soft snoring from two throats to fill the air.


End file.
